


cross country lines to be with you (where the love light gleams)

by Yellow_Bird_On_Richland



Series: and i would give the world to know that i will always find you (the Twylexis AU collection) [2]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alexis Twyla and Stevie are all boss babe bicons and deserve to be gayer, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, F/F, First Christmas, Just ignoring that covid is a thing in this universe, M/M, Twylexis, also there's no gratuitous smut in this fic, but I just wanna go on record to say that Twyla Sands can Get It, i can only write twyla and alexis as soft for and smitten with each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28307847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yellow_Bird_On_Richland/pseuds/Yellow_Bird_On_Richland
Summary: Between her company’s ascension to semi-respectability and her need to maintain an orderly schedule, Alexis’ life in NYC has turned...regimented. Steady meals, regular gym times, checking in with her clients--her days move to a fairly predictable rhythm, for the most part.Which is totally cool, right? Because honestly, she’s outgrown the bad decision adrenaline of trying to jet-hop across international flights to catch Flux Pavilion playing a show at some seedy warehouse in Denmark.Or. At least. She’s almost past those days.Impulsivity lurks dormant in her bones--it’s gotta be genetic, her penchant for the dramatic inherited from Moira.But really, this little plan is nothing compared to what she’s gotten up to in the past. She thinks--knows--it’s because Twyla is her north star, always leading her home.
Relationships: Alexis Rose/Twyla Sands, Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: and i would give the world to know that i will always find you (the Twylexis AU collection) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2073303
Comments: 9
Kudos: 21





	cross country lines to be with you (where the love light gleams)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dearzoemurphy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearzoemurphy/gifts).



> Response to a Tumblr prompt for winter/holiday-inspired fics, with this one being "Twylexis and coming home." 
> 
> This ended up being a continuation of my first Twylexis story, in that Alexis had promised to visit Twy in Schitt’s Creek during the holidays at the end of that one.

" _I was thinking…"_

_Alexis took a deep breath, and the warm look Twyla gave her was more than enough to help her finish the rest of her sentence. "I'd love to spend Christmas with you in Schitt's Creek."_

" _I'd love that, too," Twyla answered as she pulled Alexis into a tight hug._

**

Alexis tells Stevie about the tweak to her idea first because it's a few minutes after 9:30 A.M. on a Saturday and she's not awake enough yet to handle a full David freak out. The information will trickle down to him later in the day.

"He's gonna ask me, like, a thousand questions," she grimaces as she switches to speaker phone while she butters her bagel, "and I literally _just_ decided this now, so I'm still working out the details. But, as you know, even if I tell David that—"

"He'll still steamroll you with his shouting," Stevie supplies the answer. "And far be it from me to question you—actually, wait, I'm gonna drop the corporate speak for a minute. You're a Rose, I'm well within my rights to make sure whatever the hell you're up to doesn't go horribly off the rails," she decides. "So, what's this little change to your plan?"

"I'm just arriving a day early," Alexis answers cheerfully. "It's a little Christmas surprise for Twy."

She can practically see Stevie shaking her head on the other end of the line. "Warm tidings to you and your schemes, Alexis."

"And twenty Christmas blessings to you, Stevie. See ya later this month!" She blows her a loud _smack_ of a kiss as she hangs up.

She's got about three weeks til Christmas, so she sorts out the car rental first. NYC is still gridlock central, which will suck, but she'd rather avoid flying. That just leaves the whole "buying Christmas gifts for Twyla" thing.

Alexis is well-aware that she possesses a multitude of strengths. She's quick-thinking, an effective communicator, and can wear one hell of a stone-cold poker face when the need arises (after all, she _has_ extricated a couple of friends out of significant debts to Albanian loan sharks by winning high-stakes rounds of no-limit Texas Hold 'Em, thank you very much).

Gift-giving, though? Not among her top skills, surprisingly. She's helped expand Twyla's wardrobe over the years, sure, but that charity was partially to clean out her closet, too. And she'd done that well before they'd started dating, so it won't do now. She wants to get Twyla something that signifies, "You're mine, but not in a possessive way, and you mean a lot to me." Without going overboard.

" _I don't think Twy's the type to spook easily, but we have only been dating for three months, give or take,"_ Alexis reflects. _"I could see what they have at the Strand, as far as books go—but buying a novel for someone else can be so hit or miss, even someone I know as well as Twy."_

She runs a quick search online and finds plenty of cool "experience" gifts, like taking a cooking course, doing a paint night, or riding in a hot air balloon. Unfortunately, they're all in-person activities. Alexis groans—doing long-distance could be an absolute bitch sometimes—and refines her terminology, typing "long-distance relationship Christmas gifts" into her browser.

"There we go," she comments under her breath as the new page loads. After a bit of scrolling, she hits on something that feels promising: seasonal stationery, complete with envelopes, stamps, and fancy calligraphy pens.

She and Twy stay in pretty constant communication with their phones, but the idea of sitting down to write a letter to her girlfriend feels like a hint of romance from a bygone era. She texts Taylor that concept as a potential jumping-off point for a song and tells her to run with it if she wants.

Alexis places her order and, after putting in a couple solid hours of work on a Teavana marketing campaign, contemplates what else she might buy her girlfriend. One gift's not enough for her favorite person, and she might blow by their agreed-upon dollar limit, but it's hard to care much when Twy's totally worth it.

She scrolls through the "Adventures and Espionage" folder of her contacts list to see if anyone from her cloak and dagger glory days might strike inspiration. She inspects the C names, mentally makes a note to suggest _Atomic Blonde_ for her and Twyla's next movie night as she passes Charlize's number, and smiles to herself when she finds someone in New York who should do just the trick.

**

"Alexis Rose, to see Charlie. I have an appointment with him," she informs the first employee she runs into at O'Neill's Diamonds and Gems later that day.

The front desk person frowns at her breezy demeanor. "Mr. O'Neill typically doesn't make appointments, Miss Rose. One of our associates would be more than happy to help you, however…"

Charlie emerges from the back of the shop and gives her a jovial wave. "Alexis! Always a pleasure. I'll take things from here, James."

"I helped Charlie sort out a little quality control issue with a supplier down in Georgia a while back, we've been on great terms since then," she tells the sales associate, resisting the urge to smirk. She adds a little layer of sweetness as she trills, "Thank you so much for your assistance!"

"So, what brings you in today?" Charlie asks her.

She bites her lip. "I'm looking for a Christmas gift for my girlfriend, and I'm kind of torn in two directions on what to get her."

"Do you need suggestions, or do you have some idea of what you might want?"

"On one hand, I feel like getting her a bracelet with some charms that reference when we first started dating would be really sweet? Like, something she could wear on a regular basis, if she wanted. Especially since it'll only be our four month anniversary in January, so it's not like we've been together crazy long," she explains.

Charlie nods in agreement. "We could certainly do that. And your other idea?"

Alexis chews on her lip again. "My other thought would be to get her something more formal. More…" she nervously smooths her hair out. "I don't know if serious is the right term, exactly, but something that might be more fitting for a couple that's been dating for a while."

"Something that says you're anticipating…"

"Twyla," she answers, filling in the gap.

"Something that says you're anticipating Twyla being in your future for a while?" Charlie prompts her.

She flutters her hands. "Yes, exactly!"

"Hmm…" Charlie glances at a few displays, then turns back to Alexis. "This Twyla. Tell me about her."

She can't help the little laugh that escapes her mouth, because how can you _explain_ Twyla Sands to a stranger and do her justice? Still, Charlie's watching her with kind eyes and he gently tips his hand forward, as if to say, "The stage is yours, milady."

"We met in Schitt's Creek," she begins. "She was a waitress at a cafe near the motel we were all living in and I was a woefully spoiled brat with nothing better to do than hang out there to avoid my family, most days. And she…" Alexis shakes her head. "God, she put up with so much shit from me." She starts ticking incidents off on her fingers. "I left awful tips, I threw a muffin at the back of her head once to get her attention, I kind of accidentally stole this guy she was seeing—"

"And this is your girlfriend we're talking about, now?" Charlie interrupts her, chuckling at the story.

"Yes," Alexis answers, laughing a little too, before turning a touch more serious. "Because once I got over myself, we became friends. And I finally appreciated Twyla's kindness. Her patience. The way she's compassionate without being a pushover. How she sees the good in everyone. And thanks to all that…" she shrugs. "I just fell for her little by little until it finally hit me that I wanted to be with her. Sorry," she adds, "I didn't mean to ramble."

"It's fine, really. And I think it's obvious which gift you should get Twyla."

She perks up at that. "Which one?"

"The more meaningful one that speaks to your future together. Because your eyes were lit up like 30 Rock the whole time you were talking about her."

" _Well, if you wanted any more confirmation that she might just be your person, that certainly helps,"_ some part of her subconscious comments.

She doesn't have anything to say to that, but she _does_ need to respond to Charlie. "Do you have a starting point that you'd recommend for a fancier piece?" she asks. "I've gifted Twy some of my jewelry before, but I've never actually bought anything for her."

"I'd say something that can link both of you together."

"Like a bracelet with both of our birthstones set in it?" she wonders.

"Now you're talkin," Charlie responds, motioning Alexis to a different case. "You could add in the birthstone for your anniversary month, too, if you like."

Alexis claps her hands excitedly. "That sounds lovely! Great idea, Charlie."

She can see his grin in his eyes, and he gives her a wink. "That's what I'm here for. We might need to customize something like that, but we could get it done for you in about two weeks. Two and a half, tops. So that'd be…" He checks his phone's calendar. "The 20th, at the latest. Does that timeframe work for you?"

"Absolutely, thank you so much!"

Alexis walks out of the store with her bank account a good $227 lighter, but she's hardly gonna complain about it.

**

She busts her ass for the next couple weeks, pulling early morning and late night overtime so her Christmas vacation with Twyla is actually a vacation. When she finally subway-hops her way to the nearest Hertz dealership and picks out a compact rental to take on the 22nd, she nearly texts Twy that she's leaving NYC, then remembers, _"It's not a surprise if she knows."_

She texts her parents and her group chat with David, Patrick, and Stevie, instead, to tell them she's hitting the road, a far cry from when the people nearest her would have to check flight manifests to get a vague approximation of her location.

" _Oops,"_ she thinks as she realizes it's only a few minutes past five in the morning. _"It's nice, though,"_ Alexis reflects as her family and friends' respective texts of "drive safe, honey!" and "see you later this week!" come in later on once they're awake. _"To know that they care."_

Between her coffees, her Spotify playlists, and the power of McDonald's breakfast sandwiches, she's making pretty good time, despite the general rat-fuckery of NYC and Newark traffic. She gets onto the I-80 West without too many delays, though, so her drive might only be nine hours rather than the ten or eleven she'd been worried about. She's mildly disappointed that Apple's voice-to-text technology hasn't evolved to the point that it can capture and transcribe her pauses as punctuation, since the lack of her distinctive grammatical style might tip Twy off that something's up, but she'd wanted to double-check on her whereabouts for when she arrived.

" _Updating each other with our weekly work schedules turned out to be a stellar organizational idea. Thank you, past Alexis,"_ she compliments herself over a Panera lunch a bit outside Rochester.

Fortunately, after she drives her way through Western New York, crossing the Canadian border goes surprisingly smoothly, and the big city traffic near Toronto recedes into suburbia and, eventually, in the mid-afternoon, into the easy-going, small-town sleepiness of Schitt's Creek. Snow is falling at a decent clip, and Alexis is glad that no one else is really out on the road right now, both for safety and so she can just take in the scenes of a wintry wonderland. After living at a breakneck, go-go-go pace for the better part of two and a half years, she appreciates the slow, quiet stillness of her old home. Of how she can take up space and let herself breathe.

Plus, there's the little matter of getting to ring in Christmas and the new year with Twyla. She's probably tied for first with the rest of the Rose clan in terms of people Alexis would drive nearly ten hours to see, no questions asked.

Alexis grabs her couple of bags out of her car—she's getting better at packing light, finally—and frees her phone from her coat pocket as she trots up the stairs to the front door of Twyla's house.

"Hey, you," Twyla answers her call.

"Hey, babe. I just wanted to let you know, you've got a special delivery."

"Really, you ordered me something? Couldn't you have just brought it with you tomorrow?" She smiles at Twyla's bemusement.

"Um, not exactly. You'll see when you get it."

"Okay." Alexis' heart leaps when she sees Twyla walk through her kitchen, down the stairs to the back door landing, and she barely stops herself from blurting to check the front.

"You're sure it arrived today? I don't see anything out back."

"Try the front door," Alexis suggests, nearly vibrating with excitement. And cold. Schitt's Creek cold settles into her bones differently than New York's.

"Alright, if you say so," Twyla answers in her "my girlfriend can be a touch eccentric sometimes" voice.

Twyla finally looks up, sees her through the warped, rippled glass, and her jaw drops.

Alexis, still holding her phone, beams at her and offers a cheery wave. "Merry Christm—"

She can't get the rest out because Twyla's practically tackled her, having thrown the door open and charged out onto the front porch with some lounging clothes and warm, fuzzy socks on.

Alexis could say it's the frigid winter air that makes her breath freeze in her lungs.

It's not.

It's the way Twyla steadies herself on her tiptoes and pours her heart and soul into their every kiss, the way Alexis is powerless to do anything but reciprocate.

"Merry Christmas, Lex," Twyla breathes out, her gorgeous face dotted in a constellation of snowflakes and freckles, and Alexis couldn't possibly ask for a better welcome back to Schitt's Creek.

"Merry Christmas, Twy." Her hair's undoubtedly a mess, she's at that weird, uncomfortable, kinda sickly body temperature from being overheated in the car but too cold outside, snow crystals are catching in her overly clumped eyeliner, and she can't give less of a fuck about any of it.

Twyla's shiver breaks them apart, and she backpedals into her home, tugging Alexis with her.

"What are you doing here already?" she finally asks excitedly after she and Alexis have lugged in her remaining bags. "I mean, I know what you're doing here, but. Like. You weren't supposed to be here until tomorrow. Unless it's the 23rd right now and I've been off by a day for God knows how long."

"I'm selfish and greedy for our time together. And I just wanted to surprise you." Alexis punctuates her answer with a kiss since she's missed that opportunity something fierce. "I know surprises still aren't exactly your favorite, but…"

"You have a way of finding the ones that I'd like. That I'd love," Twyla responds affectionately. "And speaking of...actually, wait, I've got another question first. Are you hungry?"

"Nah, I'm good for now. I could maybe do a slightly earlier dinner, though."

"Alright, then." Twyla fixes her with a serious look, followed by a coy smirk. "Do you want to see the surprise I have for you now, or tonight after we go to bed?"

"Now. Right fucking now, please, babe," Alexis murmurs into hurried kisses as Twyla leads her to her bedroom, and she's wonderfully doomed to follow her Cheshire cat grin and melodic laugh anywhere.

"You, my darling, need to slip out of your wet clothes while I change," Twyla tells her between kisses.

"On it."

"Actually…" Twyla stops at the door and fixes her with a smoldering stare. "Don't get totally naked. I wanna strip something off you," she orders, blushing at her daring as she closes the door with a _snap._

"Have I mentioned you could very well kill me with how sexy you are?" Alexis calls toward the living room. Twyla laughs again, and hearing that sound in person more than makes up for the months of distance.

She saunters back in a few minutes later, wearing a light purple teddy, and Alexis might be suspended halfway between sleeping and dreaming as Twyla fills her field of vision because she's falling, falling, falling.

**

Alexis conks out almost immediately after they revel in their usual brand of tenderly mind-blowing sex, but she's surprised to find Twyla's dozed off, too, when she wakes from her cat nap. She slides out of bed and takes stock of her surroundings properly, registering a bittersweet pang in her chest at the intimate domestic touches. The paintings Twyla's hung on a couple of the walls, for instance. The fact that she'd been able to repaint the walls, to begin with. The space for an oversized bookshelf. The family photos on so many surfaces. The tarot card box on her dresser.

Alexis likes her apartment just fine, but it doesn't feel quite like home the way Twyla's house does. Like it's been more purposely lived in, like it doesn't have to remain quite so perfect since there's no security deposit to worry about.

She sits back on the bed, inspecting a picture of the oversized Sands clan on the beach. Taken during the 90s, Alexis guesses, if all the guys wearing jorts are any indication. Twyla stirs at the movement and sits up herself to ask, "Whatcha doin?"

"Just appreciating how _you_ this room is," Alexis answers simply. "And," she adds, feeling a tiny twinge of concern in her stomach, "realizing how large your family is."

Twyla nods. "There are a lot of us. They've heard nothing but good things about you, though, I promise. Are you still worried about meeting everyone at Uncle Graham and Aunt Lynn's Christmas Eve party?"

"Honestly, as much as I wanna say no...I'd be lying," she admits. "I don't really have a great track record with parents here. Like with Ted's, it was, hey, Mr. and Mrs. Mullens, I'm the woman who agreed to an engagement with your son, and then backed out on it, because I'm shallow and heartless."

"Babe, you're not—"

" _And_ I cheated on him. And now we're back together, isn't that great?"

"Lex, really—"

"Not to mention," she goes on, and her anxiety's trying to keep her head submerged in the acid bath of her worst memories, "I basically made you and Mutt break up, and—"

" _Alexis."_

The taut bit of steel in that tone punctures her self-hating narrative, and Twyla takes advantage of the silence to pull her close, to press reverent kisses to the back of her neck and trail them down to the top of her spine before she rests her head against her shoulder. "No more beating yourself up for your past self's transgressions," she admonishes her gently, but still with a hint of a warning. "You've grown a ton since then."

"Thanks, Twy," she sighs. "It's just—I wish I could undo some of the crap I pulled. Or go back and at least give myself hell. I'd feel better."

"The fact that you want to do that speaks to your maturity. And I don't mean to brag, but so does the fact that you're dating me. I don't put up with bitches or assholes," Twyla laughs. "Not to mention...my family didn't really take to Mutt all that much."

Alexis frowns. "They didn't?"

"Most of them are pretty boisterous, and even the ones that aren't are talkative as all get-out. And, well, you know how Mutt is. You'll be more their speed."

Alexis chuckles despite herself. "So they might be receptive to hearing some Rose family escapades and Alexis adventures?"

"Definitely," Twyla reassures her, and the anxious whirring in her mind slows to a manageable pace. The rest of their evening—dinner, watching Jeopardy and a few episodes of _Weeds,_ and spending some time reading—passes easily, and between her exhaustion and the comfort of sharing a bed with Twyla, Alexis is out like a light by 10:30.

**

They sleep in a decent bit on the 23rd, til about 9:00.

"Waking up without an alarm is n-n-nice," Alexis yawns, stretching her sleep-heavy limbs out. "As is waking up with you," she adds as Twyla snuggles closer to her.

"Having you here through the new year is gonna be great," Twyla murmurs. She remains half-asleep until Alexis gives in to her impulse to pepper her face with kisses.

Breakfast, for Alexis, is usually something of a slapdash affair during the week, so cooking an honest-to-God meal—bacon, eggs, toast, what Twyla calls her "greasy spoon hash browns"—marks a delightful and delicious change for her.

"You're still down to come to the cafe with me?" Twyla asks as they're cleaning up. "I shouldn't be there more than a couple hours, just wanna check up on stuff before the holidays officially start and review the schedule for the next two weeks since we'll be closed a bit more often than usual."

"Absolutely! It'll be great to catch up with some of the regulars, and I'll probably pop over to David and Patrick's shop to chat with them. And I've missed seeing you in your element. You're one hell of a girl-boss, Twy."

Twyla smiles demurely and answers, "I dunno about that. I still feel like I'm faking it a lot."

"You've managed to make the cafe a bit more upscale without sacrificing its charm or its soul. That takes a deft touch, knowledge of its demographics, and a hell of a lot of care," Alexis argues. "And you've got the profits and the client base to demonstrate it's a success."

Twyla's cheeks are tinged pink. "Thank you for the vote of confidence, Alexis."

She leans in, cups Twyla's face in her hands, and answers, "Always," with so much resolve that her voice shakes a bit right before they kiss.

"Now," she continues, her voice dropping to a husky whisper, "what do you say we shower before we head over to the cafe?"

"I say that's a brilliant idea," Twyla agrees, and again, what's Alexis to do but trail in the wake of her breathtaking girlfriend?

**

Alexis doesn't quite see _everyone_ there, but she gets to chat with Ronnie, Roland, and Bob in turn as the three of them wander in for coffees during the late morning hours before she takes her leave.

"Just text or call me or swing by the apothecary when you're done here, Twy," Alexis calls; as usual, a customer's gotten her attention, but Twyla glances up to give her a wave and a smile as she's leaving. "I'll be done here in a bit," she promises.

"Hello to my favorite family members and fellow entrepreneurs!" Alexis trills as she walks into Rose Apothecary.

David, naturally, responds with snark, but they've removed the barbs from what's become their love language. "You couldn't be bothered to see your own flesh and blood until you'd been here for more than…" he consults his watch. "Eighteen hours? Am I worth that little to you?"

"My apologies for having the sense to spare you from dealing with me when I was dead tired after almost ten hours of driving, David. Next time I'll come over to your place and track snow in on your precious carpets, okay?" Alexis answers smartly.

They grin despite all the sass radiating between them as they hug.

"And David asks why I sample their wares so much," Stevie deadpans, raising her newly purchased, unopened bottle of wine in a greeting. "When you lead a boring life with so little drama to be had…"

"Hi, Alexis," Patrick greets her with a hug himself after he pops out from the back room. "Did you pay for that?" he asks, nodding at Stevie.

"Dammit, Brewer, you narc. Still can't believe he married your brother, sometimes," she mutters to Alexis before asking hopefully, "Can I get the Christmas discount?"

"No Christmas discount. Good try, though," he answers.

"Fine," Stevie groans, trudging up to the register with bottle and credit card in hand.

"So," David comments with a theatrical lift of his eyebrows, " _Someone_ is enjoying an extended stay at Chez Twyla this holiday season."

"Seeing as nearly all my clients told me they'd be out of the office til the new year, I figured, why not?" She samples some new candle scents—the cranberry cinnamon is particularly appealing—and carefully tries to ignore the pointed look David's shooting her.

"Mmhmm," he nods, "and how often would you spend an entire week with Ted?"

"Well, considering you and mom and dad would look at me like I was the town harlot if I stayed there for a whole weekend…" she huffs.

"Let's not go and use up all the familial affection before our Christmas dinner," Patrick chimes in.

"Speaking of, I'm on booze and carb duty for my contribution," Stevie announces. "Get ready for my famous Budd family cheddar mashed potato bombs."

"Those sound delicious! We're bringing green beans, I think," Alexis notes as she considers buying the Christmas Tree Farm candle.

"Yep!" Patrick cheerfully confirms. "We should have oven space if you need to heat 'em up."

"At least mom and dad won't be trying to assist in the kitchen since they're coming over in the afternoon," David notes after helping a customer select a new shampoo to try.

"They've always gotta make a spectacular entrance. Nothing like flying Larry Air on Christmas Day," Alexis laughs.

"It'll be nice to see them," Stevie comments, drawing an "aww" from the other three before she adds defensively, "I'm just saying that because I normally spend all my time talking shop with Mr. Rose. Sometimes you need a break from him discussing rollouts."

"You can admit to liking them, you know," Patrick remarks lightly, trying not to grin at Stevie's obvious discomfort.

"You're an honorary, adopted Rose, after all," Alexis adds, and Stevie finally cracks a smile at that.

Alexis is pretty sure her own smile shines a bit brighter, though, when she spots Twyla stepping through the door.

"Merry Christmas Eve Eve, all."

Maybe it's just because they have limited time together in person, or maybe it's because the space around her glimmers a touch as Twyla shakes remnants of snowflakes out of her hair, but Alexis suddenly realizes, _"I've never really studied any of my partners the way I do with Twy."_

Normally, her mind runs miles faster than her legs ever could, tossing out endless suggestions about what to say or distracting her with thoughts of lips or taut biceps or manicured nails. Zooming in on Twyla is less dramatic, less cinematic or dream-like, but more rewarding. She catches details she hasn't always thought to see in other people, like how her gray-green eyes crinkle in genuine pleasure when Stevie says she's looking forward to her being part of Christmas dinner, or the way she brushes her hair back and angles her head and nods seriously to let David know that, yes, she's listening intently to his latest story about how he and Patrick are single-handedly de-aging Schitt's Creek's considerable forty-something soccer mom population with their revolutionary moisturizing creams.

" _And,"_ Alexis notices with a start, _"it's not like everyone else is fading into the background, like what happens when I'm in puppy love or infatuated with someone. It's just that Twyla's so vibrant that she...pops. She always stands out, no matter the setting."_

She's torn between calling that an observation or a fact, but either way, the result is the same: she wants to keep Twyla grounded in the foreground of her life.

The truth arrives so suddenly, presents itself to her so easily, that she can't quite stifle a gasp, drawing confused looks from everyone and a soft touch on her forearm from Twyla. "You okay, Lex?" she asks gently.

"Mmhmm," she lies. "Just got a chill."

It's a viable excuse for the goosebumps that just erupted on her arms and took up residence on the back of her neck.

Their little group melts apart as customers trickle in and David and Patrick return to actually working. Stevie remarks, "Well, gotta get back to the ol' homefront" before shuddering. "God, I've been working with Roland for too long," she mutters before brightly commenting, "See you two in a couple days!" to Twyla and Alexis.

"You all good at the cafe, hon?" Alexis asks as they link arms.

"Yep. On to Atlantic for green beans for Christmas dinner and some other groceries?"

"Onward on," Alexis confirms.

She thinks there might be something wrong with her, because she's hyped to go to a friggin grocery store with her girlfriend even though it'll be a madhouse two days before Christmas.

" _It bodes well for your future, though, that the idea of completing some mundane task with her is exciting because she'll be with you, right?"_

She can't quite say if all these insights are more comforting or frightening, and she's halfway down the rabbit hole of getting lost in her head again when Twyla starts singing along to Relient K's version of "Silver Bells" on the radio, and her voice, as always, leads Alexis out of the woods.

**

Alexis blows out a frustrated breath as they navigate yet another traffic jam in the aisles. "Coming here without a list may not have been our greatest plan ever."

"Yeeeah, I probably should've known it'd be a mess," Twyla agrees semi-grimly as she steers around a gaggle of seniors who've stopped walking so they can discuss some British darts tournament. "So, easy meal thoughts for after Christmas...we could definitely use some chicken. You good with tacos?"

"Yeah. Maybe get some pasta and Italian dressing? We could just marinate a chicken breast in that and grill it."

"Good call," Twyla responds appreciatively as she nimbly reaches around another customer in the condiments aisle. "And since it's supposed to be frigid later on in the week, how about we get tomato soup to go with grilled cheese?"

"That would hit the spot, Twy. Any type of cheese you want in particular?"

"Let's go with cheddar and Havarti," she decides.

"Look at us sort of successfully meal planning out of nowhere," Alexis happily observes.

Twyla grins at her. "Rule six of being a boss babe: adapt, overcome, and get shit done," she recites.

"Yes, Twy! You're friggin brilliant."

"I'm lucky I've got a great teacher showing me the ropes of this whole 'running your own business' deal."

Checking out takes longer than either of them wants, as it turned out that their cashier had only started working a couple of weeks before Christmas, but Twyla handles their whole transaction with a smile, amicably chatting away to help alleviate some of the employee's anxiety.

"Happy holidays, Lindsey," Twyla and Alexis tell her as she loads the final reusable shopping bag into their cart, and when they're leaving, Alexis leans over to press a kiss to Twyla's temple.

"You're one of the good ones, Twy."

"I try," Twyla replies, and Alexis delights at the slight flush in her cheeks. "I was thinking, after we get home and we've eaten lunch, would you wanna help me finish decorating the tree?"

"Aww, you waited for me so we could finish it up together?"

"Of course, Alexis," Twyla assures her. "I haven't had anyone to decorate with in years. It was one of my favorite family traditions growing up, and I'd like to have it carry over, if you will, with you."

"That sounds wonderful. And it'll be a damn sight easier than when we tried to decorate in the motel," Alexis laughs.

She's never really associated traditions with any of her significant others before—aside from her own long-held tradition of selecting disappointing significant others, of course. But the thought of establishing some with Twyla warms her faster than hot cocoa.

She asks, as she inhales the scent of pine needles, "What else did your family do for Christmas when you were a kid, Twy?"

"Mostly the usual stuff. Make cutout cookies, popcorn balls, and eggnog—the first time I ever got a little drunk was off our homemade stuff at a holiday party when I was eighteen, actually," she laughs, smiling dreamily as she thumbs through her memories. "Plus we'd go ice skating together, drive a convoy of vans through some of the fancier neighborhoods to see their Christmas lights and displays." She frowns for a second as she considers the tree, adjusts a red sleigh ornament on the left side, and nods in approval. "We were all sort of unofficially banned from visiting Santa at the Elmdale Mall because a decent number of us got up to hijinks while working at the various restaurants in their food court."

Alexis goes for diplomacy. "Considering what you've told me about your more...eccentric family members, I'm not shocked."

"We're all reformed these days. Or pretty much all of us." She moves a small ornament bin closer to Alexis so she can start filling in the back of the tree a bit.

Alexis takes a step closer to her. "I'm sorry if this is prying too much, but...is it hard, not having your dad here for the holidays?"

Twyla blows out a breath and sucks in her lower lip. "It is, and it's not, in a way," she starts slowly. "It's weird to say I've gotten used to him being in prison, but that's what happens when someone's away for as long as he's been. It might sound messed up, but it helped a lot that I was older when it happened. Having the memories to look back on from when I still really believed in the magic of Christmas is nice, you know?"

"I'm sure," Alexis agrees quietly.

"He always writes to me around Christmas, so I'll probably get his letter sometime between now and New Year's Eve or so. I told you I visited him last week to say hi and drop off his card, right?"

Alexis nods, and Twyla goes on, as stoically as she can, "We've learned to make do with those little rituals, I guess." Trying to steer the conversation in a more positive direction, she asks Alexis, "Your family celebrated both Hanukkah and Christmas, right? Did you have anything to make the holidays special?"

"Does jet-setting across the globe for most Christmases of my mid-to-late teens and early twenties count? Other than that, I mean...we didn't really acknowledge each other." Alexis tries to laugh it off, but it stings, realizing now how many family moments she'd purposely avoided. How many their family, as a collective unit, had disregarded in December, save for the exchange of checks and curated presents from faceless personal shoppers they'd all hired. "It kinda sucks to think about," she mumbles. "Not just at Christmas. Like, how we acted all the time. Even though I _get_ why we were how we were, and even though we're better now. It was just a lot of wasted time."

"Oh, babe," Twyla murmurs, leaning close to her. "You're making up for it. You all are. And your parents will be here in two days. I know they can't stay super long after that, but it's something, isn't it, to have them here til nearly the end of the year?"

She manages a smile at her girlfriend's quiet intuition. "Yeah. It is. And how do you always know just how to handle me?"

"Years of practice. Of taking care to know," she answers sincerely.

"My beautiful Queen of Cups. Always looking out for me," Alexis murmurs, tugging her closer, pulling her in for a kiss. She's not sure when exactly she started using Twyla's signature Tarot card as another nickname, but its description aligns with some of her best qualities: her compassion, her empathy, her authentic, non-performative kindness.

It doesn't hurt that Twyla practically melts whenever she pulls it out, even if it's over text, but the in-person effects rate way, way better.

"My gorgeous Magician. Helping me craft a better life piece by piece." Twyla responds softly, guiding Alexis' hands to put ornaments on before she adds, with a meaningful glance, "Person by person."

"I know what you mean, about people making your life better," Alexis nods seriously. "Like Rafi, my usual Starbucks barista?"

She squints. "...Rafi? What?"

"Seriously, Twy, he's been a _miracle-worker_ these past couple weeks while I've been pulling overtime." Alexis grins despite herself.

"Oh my God, Lex, fuck off." Twyla goes for indignance with a huff of her breath and a massive eye roll, but her laughter at the wisecrack betrays her, and Alexis responds reflexively.

She drops her voice low, layers it the way she knows Twyla likes while she stares her down. "Sure, I could fuck _off_ , but I think I'd rather fuck _you._ "

The air between them vibrates for a second before Twyla insists they at least snap the lids back on the ornament boxes.

No one's going to notice if the back of the tree isn't fully spruced up, anyway.

**

"So Graham and Lynn are hosting. Their two kids are attending Toronto but they're in different sections of the business program, and your cousin Jodi, the one you're really close to, is the one who nearly slammed a garage door down on your mom's car when you were thirteen," Alexis recites back to Twyla, determined to remember it all. "And your mom's going to be there, right?"

"Color me impressed." Twyla inclines her head and offers polite applause after she puts one of the final presents for her younger nieces and nephews into her car. "But you really don't have to try to memorize all the details, hon. Really, there've been times when _we've_ mixed each other up," she laughs. "And yes, my mom will be there. Will, one of Graham's brothers," she explains, "is gonna pick her up. She's doing better lately with being more present since her doctor got her on a new prescription. She won't stay super late, but I can at least see how she's doing and potentially introduce you."

Alexis tries to nod normally, but she feels like a bobblehead, and apologizes, "Sorry, I just wanna make a good first impression on everyone."

"Consider tonight your chance to make a good third impression," Twyla suggests. "First, they all know a ton about you from me, and second, the fact that I'm inviting you says a lot. I haven't been in that many serious relationships over the years," she says shyly. "But I'm excited for all of them to meet you."

Alexis gasps in concern as she realizes her mistake, caught red-handed. Or red-gift-box-handed.

"I didn't get presents for any of your family members!"

"You helped me pick out the ones for the kiddos just after Thanksgiving, remember?" Twyla reminds her. After they each load one last gift bag into the back of her Camry, she catches Alexis' hands. "Just breathe, babe," she instructs her, and Alexis matches her pattern, slowly inhaling and exhaling until her heart stops thumping like a rabbit's foot.

"I've got you," Twyla murmurs. "This is all gonna be fine, I promise."

"Okay," Alexis nods into a deep kiss before Twyla steps around to the driver side. "Thank you. For everything."

"Of course."

Alexis can't help but notice the back seat is surprisingly full with gift bags, considering there aren't a ton of younger kids who are coming, and her curiosity gets the better of her. "Did you get extra presents for, like, everyone attending this Christmas Eve party, Twy?"

"One splurge item per family, plus a book or other educational gift," she answers in a monotone that suggests she's fielded that question a few too many times. "I mean, yes, I did. Sorry. It's…" she glances up to make sure the red light hasn't changed. "It's complicated. The whole lottery thing, I mean, with my extended family."

"I'm all ears if you wanna share," Alexis offers after a moment's pause. For all her life experience, she's never known anyone who's become fabulously rich without the assistance of generational wealth, insider trading tips, or labor exploitation.

"So, I told them about it, but not the exact extent of what I won," she clarifies. "I've given my immediate family and the ones I've been close to forever pretty respectable nest eggs for stuff like house improvements, car repairs, and medical emergencies, God forbid. And I've socked away money for college education or trade school for the younger kids and teenagers, but…" she sighs. "I just never know if I've done too much, or not enough. With my investments, the money's gonna keep growing, and God knows I don't even touch my 'go stupid' account that often. But I'd be worried about enabling my family members to live beyond their means if I just dropped a few million in their laps. Like how some athletes go out and buy mansions and yachts and suddenly they're in massive debt?"

"Yeah, I see what you mean," Alexis answers, unsure of what exactly she should say at this point.

Twyla's concern doesn't seem to be fading with any of her explanations, though. If anything, it's growing. "But then, on the other hand, who am I to decide how they should spend money I came through by dumb luck? I mean, what if I'm sitting here inventing these reasons to not give them more and I'm being hypocritical and selfish and—"

Alexis turns her head to look at her so quickly that her neck cracks, and Twyla freezes for a second at the sudden onset of intense eye contact before the driver behind them beeps.

"Twyla. Listen to me." She waits for her to complete her left hand turn and then grabs for Twyla's right hand; she can drive one handed since they're only going straight for the rest of the way, and Google Maps says their destination is less than three miles away. "You are the most generous, kind-hearted, and giving person I've ever met. You're anything but selfish. You literally set up an anonymous foundation to benefit Schitt's Creek!" she insists, her voice almost rising before she catches herself. "You know your family better than anyone, and from what you've told me about them, you're making the right choice in not enabling some potentially imprudent financial decisions. If they blow money that should be used responsibly on jet skis or miniature water-parks or whatever, that's their problem, not yours, and I _will not_ let you feel guilty for that. Okay?"

She sits back, her breathing a bit ragged from delivering an unexpected monologue, when Twyla offers her a soft smile and a quiet, but determined, "Okay."

They park in the large driveway in front of Twyla's family's house, and Alexis is just about to get out when Twyla reaches across, grabs her by the arm of her coat, and yanks her back toward the center console for a long, lingering kiss.

"What was that for?" Alexis croaks, blinking stars out of her vision.

"That was my thank you. For everything." Twyla grins as she opens her car door and retrieves a gift bag from the back. She gives Alexis one final glance as they approach the house, like, _"You good?"_ and Alexis nods before easily linking their free hands together.

**

Twyla's aunt and uncle greet them with a festive, "Merry Christmas!"

"So great to see you both," Twyla smiles, gliding forward to hug both of them before stepping back and placing her hand on the small of Alexis' back. "Uncle Graham, Aunt Lynn, this is my girlfriend, Alexis."

"Nice to meet you," Alexis greets them. Lynn pulls her into an ideal "meeting the family" hug, neither too tight nor perfunctory, and Graham comments, "So you're the big city wordsmith, then? Both in marketing, and, from what we've heard, in storytelling, too?"

"I've been known to spin a tale here or there. Mostly true ones, with a few creative liberties."

Graham laughs at that, and Lynn remarks warmly, "Oh, you'll fit right in, Alexis. If you'll just hand me your bags…" she takes them and heads off toward the living room to arrange them under the tree.

"I can take your coats, if you want," Graham offers, but Twyla shakes her head. "We've got it, but thank you."

Alexis knows she told Twyla she looked incredible before they left. She knows she'd purposely kissed her a ton before they put lipstick on so it wouldn't smear.

She might just be having deja-vu, then, because she finds herself murmuring, "You're stunning, babe," while Graham is distracted by a pair of the younger kids running around.

She'll happily admit that Twyla always looks good, that she's nearly always well put-together. But today, she's gone for an extra bit of sophistication with a white, flowy, long-sleeve blouse and a red, high-waisted skirt that seems to lengthen her legs a bit. Alexis might actually be the slightly more casual of the two of them, decked out in a red sweater and a black skirt with leggings.

"Did you two coordinate your clothes?" Lynn asks once she's returned from staging the presents.

Alexis studies Twyla's outfit again—the way her skirt nips in at her waist, how she's showing off her swan-like neck by wearing her hair up today—under the guise of considering the question.

"No," they answer together, with Twyla adding, "Though Alexis is very stylish, so I'm not surprised she brought something that so easily matched what I've got in my closet."

"Well, you both look good," Lynn comments affectionately as Graham leads them to the kitchen, saying, "We've got snacks, drinks...dinner'll probably be ready in half an hour or so. Hope you both brought your appetites."

Alexis can't help but chuckle at the lame joke, as it's one her dad made constantly when he'd play at being the grillmaster back at the Rosebud, and she feels a little less like an outsider, a little more at home.

"We did," Twyla laughs. "Uh, Graham, do you know if Will and my mom are here yet?"

He strokes his beard. "I saw 'em a little while after they came in through the kitchen door. She might've wanted to go settle in the den since it's quieter."

"Thanks, we'll check there."

Twyla pokes her head in, and Alexis' heart cracks a little at how she approaches her mom, sitting in an oversized chair, with caution, treading on the carpet like it's thin ice stretched with spider web cracks.

"Mom?" she tries softly.

She responds after a few beats. "Twyla! Hi there, sweetie."

"Merry Christmas, mom," Twyla whispers in a choked-up voice as she leans in close, offering her a hug that's more of an enveloping with her arms. "There's someone here I'd like you to meet."

She motions in with her palm and tells her mom, slowly, "This is my girlfriend, Alexis Rose. I told you about her when we talked on Monday."

"Rose…" she frowns. "Pretty blonde? Works at Interflix? I've been telling you to ask her out, Twyla, or she'll get snapped up by some big city hotshot."

"Yeah. I'll do that, I promise." Twyla's laugh comes out half-broken.

Alexis tries her luck. "Mrs. Sands?"

She regards Alexis with a hint of suspicion, which, okay, that's nothing new, so do Tom Hiddleston and Chris Pine. "Yes?"

"I'm Alexis. Alexis Rose. I just wanted to tell you—"

"Rose?" she interrupts. "Pretty blonde? Works at Interflix? I've been telling you to ask her out, Twyla, or she'll get snapped up by some big city hotshot."

Twy shoots Alexis a sad smile to say, _"What can you do?"_ and Alexis backs away to give the two of them a moment to chat by themselves, as much as her mom is able.

"How is she, if that's not a stupid question to ask?" Alexis murmurs as they leave the den, giving Twyla's hand a squeeze for support.

Twyla shakes her head. "I appreciate the thought. She's doing alright. The holidays and noise and everything kinda leave her a little rattled, but she's alright."

Alexis and Twyla go through the same song and dance—introduction, hi, nice to meet you, I'm Twyla's girlfriend, I used to live in Schitt's Creek and that's how we met, et cetera, et cetera—with a bunch of cousins and second cousins and a few aunts and uncles without incident. Until one of the younger girls who's been running around—Alexis guesses she's six, maybe seven; she's a pretty bad judge of kids' ages, honestly—comes up to her parents at the tail end of her routine.

"Aunt Twyla has a girlfriend?" she pipes up.

Alexis and Twyla freeze up for a second, as her parents (Wendy and Marty, she repeats mentally, Wendy and Marty) comment, "Um, yes, Mary Catherine," and Alexis gives Twyla a deer in headlights look _._ She's not the best with kids under normal circumstances, and while everyone's been completely welcoming to her so far, it's hard to know if that'll stick when the subject of two women dating gets brought to the surface with the abruptness that only a small child can offer.

"Merry Christmas, Mary Catherine! Are you having a great time off from school?" Twyla beams at her, and Alexis starts to melt because her girlfriend is too damn wholesome for the world.

"Yeah!" she nods, and Alexis nearly cracks up at the juxtaposition between her excitement and her parents' simultaneous exhausted glances up toward the ceiling. "Can I ask you both something?" She points at Alexis, too.

Twyla gently tugs her hand, and okay, they're doing this, she supposes, as Twyla leads them to squat down so they're at eye level with this small child with a shock of red hair.

"Mary Catherine, this is my girlfriend, Alexis. Alexis, Mary Catherine. You're going to be seven soon, right?" Twyla asks. She nods happily again, and Alexis squeezes Twy's hand for a second as a silent thank you for the opening to the conversation.

"That's super exciting! And your name is so pretty," Alexis comments as brightly as she can. At an encouraging nod from Twyla, she asks, "What were you wondering about, Mary Catherine?"

She fixes both of them with a surprisingly serious look for an almost-seven-year-old and says, "If you're girlfriends, then...do you not kiss icky _boys?"_

Twyla claps a hand over her mouth to avoid laughing and Alexis manages to answer, "No, we don't. But you might not _always_ think boys are icky."

"But they have _cooties_!" Mary Catherine protests vehemently, and Alexis and Twyla crack up at the same time before Twyla recovers just long enough to tell her, "Cooties go away when you're older. When you're…"

She and Alexis glance at each other, then at Mary's parents, who are also trying their damndest to not lose it.

"Fifteen," Alexis says.

"Sixteen," Twyla tells her.

Wendy and Marty, thankfully, tell her they should be getting to their seats for dinner soon, and all Alexis can do is shake her head.

"Kids are something else."

"For someone who says she's painfully awkward around small children, I think you handled that admirably," Twyla compliments her as they get back to their feet and head toward the dining room.

Over a delicious glazed ham for dinner, complete with more side dishes than she has room to sample, Alexis wonders if this particular group of the Sands family managed to sequester all the crazies away for this Christmas, or if Twyla's comment yesterday about all of them, more or less, calming down is actually true. There's no mention of telemarketing or hospital bracelets or Fleetwood Mac. She does, however, hear snippets of hushed conversations about betting lines and how, to quote one of Twyla's many cousins, "that numbskull Trubisky's gonna kill my four-team parlay."

"You bet on the Bears, you deserve the despair," a platinum-blonde woman wearing a classic black dress snorts. "Their offense couldn't find the end zone with a police escort and a drug-sniffing dog."

Twyla catches Alexis' amusement at the various asides and murmurs, "Our family's mostly on the straight and narrow now, but we're not quite all the way there yet."

"T!" the blonde calls from down the table, and Twyla answers, "Jodi!" with a wave.

"And I'm assuming that's Alexis next to you?" Alexis manages a nod as she finishes her bite of ham and oven-charred brussel sprouts.

Jodi gestures to the other handful of cousins nearest her and says, "You'll have to meet us lonely hearts club members later," before digging back into her meal.

"Jodi, Mike, Ellen, and a couple of my other cousins who've been single for a while took to calling themselves that at family parties a few years back and it stuck," Twyla explains in response to Alexis' look of confusion.

The kids get to tearing open their presents after dinner, and their unabashed joy—even at the books they receive, surprisingly—makes Alexis feel a bit younger herself, like she's getting to vicariously experience a taste of Christmases she didn't have at that age. Having Twyla next to her, save for when she's playing the part of gift distributor, makes it all the sweeter.

"I'm gonna go to the kitchen to get some more water, you want anything while I'm in there?" she asks Twyla.

"I'd like one too, thanks," she comments, and Alexis can't help but grin to herself as she hears Twyla resume the gift-giving with a fucking adorable amount of Christmas cheer to engage with the kids.

"Hey, Will," she greets him as he's heading back toward the living room. She's just started running herself a glass of tap water when someone calls, "Hey ya, blondie!"

It's Twyla's mom, who's also, surprisingly, in the kitchen.

"Hi, Mrs. Sands," she answers slowly, wondering to herself, _"How exactly do I figure out who you think I am?"_

"It's Alexis, right?" she asks.

" _Well, never mind about needing to figure it out."_

"Yeah." Feeling like she might as well attempt it again, she says, "I'm Twyla's—"

"I know who you are," she cuts her off. "I know _exactly_ who you are." She gives a dry laugh. "My daughter talks about ya enough. I'm not sure if I'm breaking some trust of hers or not, but," she points at her, "Twyla is over the moon for you, miss New Yorker. For good reason, too, from what she tells me."

Alexis' brain short-circuits for a minute, mostly because she didn't expect to talk to anyone while fetching two glasses of water, let alone have this particular conversation with Twyla's mom. She eventually responds, "I've sort of known that, but I appreciate hearing it from you. And the feeling is definitely mutual."

Mrs. Sands beams. "Twyla's told me she's guessed that's the case. You won't mind if I pass the message along sometime?"

"Not at all."

"Nice talking with you." She nods toward the entrance to the dining room as a sort of dismissal, and Alexis follows the order, as it were, as soon as she grabs her two waters.

"Thanks," Twyla tells her when she comes back into the living room and settles next to her on the couch. "What took you so long?"

"Umm...I ran into your mom. And she was pretty...with it. Lucid."

Twyla's eyes pop. "How lucid, exactly?"

Alexis smiles at her. "Like, she knew who I was. And that we're dating. And she said that you," she's trying to be sweet, but she can't help the smug smirk that flits over her face for a second, "are over the moon for me. Care to report on that?"

Twyla's cheeks burn crimson and she will never, ever get tired of flustering her favorite girl.

"I doubt that I've ever used that exact phrase before, but she's not wrong," Twyla murmurs, and it's instinct, the way Alexis leans into her as Twyla whispers, "I'm glad she really met you."

"Me too, babe. Me, too."

**

"Welcome, one and all, to the Lonely Hearts Club!" Mike (or maybe it's Jay) declares; with most of the families with tweens and younger kids clearing out, as well as a few older family members, it's a little bit more of a party now, led largely by a motley crew of college coeds and a gaggle of Sands family members in their late twenties to early thirties. "Time for indoctrination."

AKA drinking peppermint moonshine.

"I'll do a full shot," Alexis volunteers, eagerly reaching for a glass that's filled to the brim before Twyla applies her waitressing skills to gracefully pluck it away from her.

"No, you won't, because I don't want your body to hate itself that much," Twyla corrects her, pouring half of the full serving into an empty shot glass and taking it for herself.

"While I usually encourage slightly irresponsible drinking at family get-togethers, especially if you're a newbie meeting all of us, you should listen to Twyla on this one, Alexis," Jodi tells her.

Once everyone who wants a beverage has gotten one, Jay toasts, "Merry Christmas. May your happy reasons to drink during the new year far outnumber the sad ones."

Alexis and Twyla toss their drinks back with the rest of the college-and-up Sands family. The peppermint hits her palate first, and it's pretty tasty. For a second, she wonders why Twyla had warned against doing a full shot.

Then the alcohol kicks in, and she's never been more grateful for a family to be so well-prepared with chasers.

"Wha' didja think?" Twyla mutters, rubbing her mouth with the back of her hand; everyone else seems to be in similar discomfort.

"It feels like I just swallowed peppermint battery acid…" Alexis grimaces after taking a gulp of water, "but the flavor is _good_ , somehow. Like, I kinda want more to see if another taste drowns out the initial awful-ness?"

"That's a dangerous game to play," Mike tells her. "One you've got no hope of winning, based on our years of trying. But I like your moxie."

"Congrats on making it through one of the more interesting Sands family Christmas traditions, Alexis," Jodi comments wryly, and Alexis registers one of the strangest glows of pride she's ever felt.

**

"Did you just say 'respectfully chill'?" one of Mike or Jay inquires (she's gotten them mixed up a time or two as the night's gone on).

"Yes, you have to be respectfully chill at police checkpoints!" Alexis insists.

"Seriously, you guys, listen to Alexis," Twyla implores them. "She was a friggin super spy in a past life, I swear." She shifts closer to Alexis and affectionately slings an arm around her shoulder.

"Okay, so lemme explain: if you're too relaxed, then it just seems unnatural. At the same time, if you're wound too tightly, that's suuuch an obvious tell. Like, this one time, I was trying to transport a ton of raw milk with Roland and my dad…"

"Wait a sec, city girl tried to get in the raw milk trade?" Jodi asks with a smirk. "Didn't work out quite how you planned?"

"Roland was sweating through his shirt and couldn't string two words together and it totally gave us away!" she pouts. "I would've gotten through the checkpoint easy otherwise."

"Well, well, well," Mike laughs. "Looks like you two troublemakers are matched up well for each other."

"Ooh, Twyla was a troublemaker once upon a time? I need to hear about this," Alexis remarks with a trademark leap of her eyebrows.

"I don't think we need to rehash ancient history," Twyla cuts in.

Ellen smirks at her. "What, you don't wanna relive your NFL betting days?"

Alexis gasps. "You once watched football, Twy? You were into betting?!"

"I got deep into it," she grimaces. "Too deep. Studying injury reports, reading up on team news, tracking betting lines...it was a lotta work. But my gambling days are behind me now. More or less."

"Ooh, you looking to get back in the game somewhere?" Jay asks, perking up.

"No, but I... _gambled_ that Alexis might be into me when I started flirting with her in New York," Twyla drawls, adding with a dramatic eye roll, "Does no one here appreciate a good pun? Come on, people!"

This Twyla is a bit bolder, brasher, and a little louder than Alexis is used to, and she's definitely a bit more physically affectionate when she's tipsy.

 _"Not that I mind any of that,"_ she thinks. _"I wanna know every version of Twy at every hour of the day."_

She replies to Twyla, "I got a lifetime supply of puns from dating Ted. I will say, though, since you and I got together, I guess it's less of a surprise to hear about you not always flying... _straight_ as an arrow."

Ellen sighs into her beer glass at Alexis' exaggerated wink. "You two dorks absolutely deserve each other."

"Damn straight. I got outta the lonely hearts club with authority thanks to this one!" Twyla points emphatically to her left. "No offense. There's absolutely nothing wrong with being single, though. Knowing your worth makes dating way, way easier, and you'll be way less likely to settle."

"I second all that, speaking as someone who's dated plenty of dolts," Alexis agrees, careful to avoid lavishing praise on Twyla for applying boss babe tenets to other, non-business aspects of her life. She's on the verge of tipping into overly complimentary territory, and she doesn't want to embarrass herself or Twy. The whole "meeting the family" deal seems to have gone swimmingly and she's got her favorite person next to her and she's enjoyed just enough to drink to nudge the volume of her insecurities and inhibitions down pretty far without muting them entirely. She's at a good spot. A great spot.

Fortunately, she doesn't have to worry about potentially spoiling the night at all, as Twyla gets up from the kitchen table. "I think we're gonna hit the road. As always, great to see all of you, stay in touch in our group chat," Twyla tells her cousins, giving them each a hug in turn, followed by Alexis.

"I just wanna say, I'm pretty sure Mutt is the last guy Twyla brought to anything like this, and you're way cooler. And you make her laugh way more," Jodi whispers to Alexis as they exchange goodbyes.

"Thanks, I certainly try! I actually dated Mutt too, and he can't hold a candle to Twy," she mutters back. "Plus, he just never talks. Nice enough guy otherwise, though."

Jodi lets out a short bark of a laugh, grins at Alexis, and tells Twyla, "Your girl is welcome to hang anytime she's back in town visiting you. She's got enough of an attitude to survive us, but not so much that she's a diva."

"Thanks, Jodi," Twyla answers warmly before she and Alexis find Graham and Lynn to thank them for hosting and bid them goodnight.

Their drive home is quiet from the come-down after the party, but Alexis remembers to say, "Twy...your family's great," somewhere between them getting ready for bed and fading swiftly into sleep.

Twyla rolls onto her side, burrowing deeper into the covers. "I don't wanna say I told you so, but I did. And they all l-l-liked you, too."

Alexis is pretty sure she says goodnight, but she's not sure if she tells Twyla she could get used to living with her all the time, or if she just thinks it before sleep overtakes her senses.

**

Her brain's pulling this stunt way too early in the morning. Especially on Christmas.

Because the girl who once made a point of seeing how many consecutive Christmases she could spend airborne in private jets now contemplates the sight of her girlfriend, freshly woken up from a deep sleep, and thinks, _"It'd be easy to celebrate Christmas like this again next year. And the year after that. And…"_

Her past relationships nearly always came with built-in expiration dates—the end of a party, the closing encore of a concert, the final testing day of a semester—but with Twyla, that "and" in her mind stretches on toward the horizon, and she can't, for the life of her, see why she'd wanna cut it off.

" _I'll let a more awake Alexis tackle the best way to translate those thoughts into words,"_ she decides before they whip together a quick pancake breakfast and settle in the living room to open presents.

"I've spent too much of my life wanting to get presents rather than give them, so you can go first, Twy," Alexis suggests.

"Oh my God, this stationery is great!" she gasps after tearing the wrapping paper off. "And the pens look like they'll write really well."

"I have the same set at home, so we can write letters back and forth to each other. Figured it was a nice bit of old-timey romance," Alexis smiles.

"Absolutely! Thanks, Lex." She offers one of her presents up.

"Is this...is it a zen garden of the High Line? It's so well-crafted!"

Twyla nods proudly. "I thought it would be a good way to spruce up your office and offer a little relaxation. Plus, I knew how much you liked seeing it when we went there during my vacation."

"I'll be taking this in when I get home, for sure. Thank you, Twy!"

Alexis passes her a slender box, and her gasp upon opening it is exactly the reaction she'd wanted.

" _Alexis,"_ she breathes, holding the bracelet up and watching, dazzled, as the light reflects off the collection of gemstones running along the outside. "This is gorgeous, but...I don't know if I...you must've spent—"

Alexis cuts off her reservations with a kiss. "I spent my money on something that made me smile. And it made you smile. You can't fake that reaction to diamonds."

"It's amazing," Twyla murmurs reverently. "Like you had it custom-made for me."

"Actually…"

"Babe," Twyla gasps. "You didn't!"

Alexis grins and shrugs. "I know a guy in New York who does great work at a fair price. Helped him out of something of a scrape once."

Twyla kisses her soft and slow just before she puts the bracelet on, gazes in wonder at how it shines again, and tells Alexis, "Give him a big thank you from me," just before she retrieves her final present. "And if I'm being honest...I can't really rebuke you for going past our spending limit."

Alexis' eyes narrow in suspicion at that. "Twy. What did you do?"

She gives a cheeky wink. "Open your present and find out."

She unwraps the box and lifts the top off to pull out a ticket.

"I would've asked you to create the design, but I couldn't, obviously. David, Patrick, and Stevie were a ton of help," Twyla notes quietly as Alexis reads it: _This ticket entitles the holder, Miss Alexis Rose, to accompany its presenter, Miss Twyla Sands, on one richly decadent, magnificently opulent, all-expenses-paid, four-to-seven day vacation in 2021, courtesy of Ms. Sands' Go Stupid Slush Fund. Destination to be decided by Miss Rose or by mutual agreement between both parties._

" _How_ ," Alexis asks, her cracked voice breaking her stunned silence, "did I get lucky enough to get you for a partner?"

"I ask myself that a lot, too," Twyla answers, her voice equally wrecked. "And there was one more small thing in there, under the ticket—you'll wanna make sure you get it."

"Oh—" Alexis' fingers scrabble in the box and brush up against metal. "What—"

She feels its shape and snatches it up with trembling fingers.

"It's more symbolic than anything," Twyla explains. "Since I'm pretty much always here when you're visiting. But I still wanted you to have a key, anyway. It's not just my apartment anymore. It's partly yours, too."

Alexis has ugly cried on plenty of Christmases, usually for stupid reasons—being too hungover, being upset that some guy who said he'd see her in Fiji showed up on her Instagram feed with some hussy in Ireland, running out of champagne early in the flight, et cetera.

She barely blinks back her tears, but for once, they're positive, joyful, borne out of love rather than anger or frustration.

"Twy." She gently sets the key and the ticket down so she can clutch both her hands, but that doesn't seem like enough, so now she's got one hand tangled in her brunette tresses and the other at the small of her back to further shrink the distance between them, and she hopes her kiss can convey at least some of the words she's struggling to find. She perseveres, though, because she's a Rose, and that's what they do. "These are literally the best Christmas gifts I've ever gotten. I—I don't even know how to begin to thank you, but I'm going to cherish them something fierce."

"You're welcome, Lex." Twyla reaches out for her, pulls her in all too easily, and murmurs, "I've never put as much thought into getting Christmas gifts for someone as I have with you this year."

"Same. And thank you, again."

Alexis feels like she's missing something—some grand gesture, perhaps, or something else that needs to be said—but her mind can't quite work out what's left to do at the moment. She settles for kissing Twyla and occasionally repeating her amazement at the generosity and value of her gifts, and they start very, very preliminary research on potential vacation spots.

All in all, not a bad plan B, even if she'd rather have a flash of insight into what plan A should be.

**

Twyla holds up a forest green poncho sweater. "How do you think this would go with my best pair of dark jeans?"

Alexis pauses her own clothing search to look up. "That'll be a perfect outfit! It'll definitely fit David's dress code."

"Thanks. I wasn't sure exactly what 'Christmas casual, dressed down with flair' meant."

"I'm sure we'll hear _all_ about the inspiration for this little shindig when we get over there," Alexis remarks, drawing a tinkling laugh from Twyla before she sighs.

Twyla comes over, wraps her up in a hug from behind, and settles her head on her shoulder. "What's wrong, hon?"

"I'm not sure what to wear out of what I brought."

"Well," Twyla answers, a smile emerging on her face, "you could check my closet for some of the stuff you've gifted me over the years."

Alexis gives her a quick peck as she gets to her feet. "Wonderful idea, babe." She flicks through various blouses and sweaters until one catches her eye—a long-sleeve, off the shoulder gold blouse that faintly shimmers.

Alexis plucks it off the hanger, drapes it in front of herself, and poses. "Thoughts on pairing this with my black leggings?"

Twyla's gaze spells trouble, and she slowly stalks toward Alexis. "You're going to look unfairly attractive. Pair a red scarf with that and a dark lipstick and…" she bites her lip. " _Fuck,_ I'm already thinking about undressing you when we get back home."

"That sounds _divine_ ," Alexis agrees, her tone turning husky, and they lose a good five minutes (okay, twelve to fifteen, but who's counting). Thank God Patrick has impressed upon David, over the years, that there can be a 30-minute window within which guests can arrive to a soiree.

"Thank you for jumping me before I did my makeup," Alexis tells Twyla as she re-starts putting her outfit on, and she's learning that Twy's laugh might be her favorite thing to hear during the holiday season.

They quickly apply their makeup, put finishing touches on each other, and get prepped to head over to David and Patrick's house in short order. "I think we've got everything." Alexis takes stock of the gift bag she's carrying (Twyla's got the green bean casserole to be heated up later on) and double-checks that they have Christmas cards and their chosen presents for everyone—David, Patrick, Stevie, her parents, and the Brewers.

"Oh, one last thing." Twyla darts back to her room and re-emerges, seemingly unchanged, until she holds up her wrist. "Figured I'd be remiss if I didn't show off my amazing girlfriend's Christmas present."

"Aww, Twy," Alexis comments happily before giving her a quick kiss.

"I think we're ready to go, then?" Twyla asks as she holds open the door for her.

Alexis strides out into the crisp winter air with a full heart and her favorite girl on her arm, and her reply comes off her lips with effortless grace. "I'm ready to go anywhere as long as I've got you."

**

They arrive, thankfully, within David's stated timeframe (3:00-3:30 P.M.) and they're not "straggling in," as he puts it; she has no doubt their parents will make a fabulous entrance, fresh from the airport.

While Alexis had come to feel pretty comfortable at Twyla's family party yesterday, she's even more at ease in this environment, as she and Twyla greet their long-time friends turned family.

"And you've met my parents," Patrick gestures toward them as a re-introduction. "Mom, Dad, you remember Alexis and Twyla."

"Of course," they answer, and his mom says, "Twyla, you run that delightful little cafe where we had the engagement party, right?"

She nods and smiles. "Yes, I do, and I actually own it now. Bought it a few weeks after that get-together."

"And Alexis," his dad comments, "Patrick and David tell us you're operating your own marketing firm out of New York?"

"That's correct," she confirms. "It's been a great experience, even on the challenging days, but it's really nice to be back here for the holidays. Sometimes the city can just be too much."

"Visiting Schitt's Creek is a bit like stepping back in time. It's a wonderful change of pace," Patrick's mom comments, and his dad pipes up, "It's nice to slow down and feel like you can truly catch your breath for once."

"Yes, definitely," Alexis and Twyla agree.

Johnny and Moira, naturally, choose that moment to arrive in something of a whirlwind.

"Merry yuletide tidings to one and all!" Moira exclaims as she sashays in while Johnny offers a slightly more muted, but still cheerful, "Merry Christmas, everyone! David, Patrick, thank you so much for hosting. The place looks lovely!"

"Thanks, Dad," David comments warmly. "Now, let us get your coats…"

His face drops a smidge as he takes in their outfits, and Alexis ducks toward Twyla to avoid anyone seeing her laugh for a second.

Johnny's wearing a forest green sweater almost identical in color to Twyla's and the daddest pair of faded blue jeans Alexis has ever seen.

Moira, meanwhile, is decked out in a deep red ugly sweater with a Santa suit design and a red and white striped skirt.

"What?" Moira frowns at David's magikarp-esque, gaping mouth. "You _said_ you wanted us to dress in casual Christmas attire, David, and I am not one to misinterpret such missives."

Stevie saves him by bravely stepping forward to declare, without even a trace of sarcasm, "You look wonderful, Mrs. Rose. You knew exactly what David was going for. I think he's just surprised that we all missed the mark so much."

He manages to recover. "Yes. Exactly. Thank you, Stevie."

"And you look great, too, Mr. Rose," she adds. "The informal look is a nice change from your usual suits."

"Thank you, Stevie," he answers warmly, offering her a handshake before pulling her in for a hug, and it breaks the temporary bout of awkwardness over Moira's unique fashion choice.

David and Patrick set out a delicious-looking array of appetizers—shrimp cocktail, bruschetta, and cheese and crackers—as Moira held court on her latest Sunset Bay filming adventures and Johnny and Stevie provided highlights of Rosebud's latest expansion efforts. The potluck dinner, too, turned out well. Stevie's cheddar mashed potato bombs, in particular, were addicting.

Twyla's in the middle of passing a basket of dinner rolls to Moira when she unexpectedly catches her by the wrist, her eyes flashing as she inspects it.

"Wherever did you get this bracelet, Twyla? It's positively breathtaking."

"I'm actually not sure. You'll have to ask Alexis, since she got it for me for Christmas." She pauses for a second, throws Alexis a smile, and clarifies, "Had it _designed_ for me."

Alexis basks in the praise, loving that she's become the kind of person her girlfriend can brag about without her words ringing hollow like empty calories.

Moira tilts her head at an angle toward Alexis, and she answers, "I got in touch with Charlie O'Neill."

"Ah, Charlie." Moira nods knowingly. "A fine gem-setter and a better man. And I'm glad to see that you, Alexis, still have your eye for understated elegance when it comes to jewelry. You got it from me, you know."

" _She's the only woman alive who could say that with a straight face while wearing an ugly sweater and a candy-cane inspired skirt,"_ Alexis thinks fondly as she plays along, nods, and answers, "Yes, mom."

Mrs. Brewer comes around to take a look at it now and gives a low whistle. "That is quite a bracelet."

"It'll be really nice to wear for special occasions," Twyla responds demurely, clearly trying not to blush.

"Speaking of, Twy, you could wear it to my one work friend's wedding next year," Alexis suggests. "He and his fiancee are planning it for late November." She thinks back to when she'd heard that news. "Had I told you about that already?"

"Umm...no, I don't think so," Twyla responds to her as David cuts in, "It looks like everyone could use more waters—Alexis, could you help me with that, please?"

"Sure," she answers, her brow furrowing in confusion as to why she's been chosen. She glances back at the table as they collect a few glasses. Patrick and Stevie each tip their heads slightly toward David, but she can't interpret what they mean, and it takes Twyla a second to respond when she asks, "Do you need any more water, Twy, or are you okay for now?"

"...I'm—I'm good, Alexis, sorry," she stammers before holding out her wine glass. "Would you mind getting me a half-pour of the Malbec, please?"

"Coming right up."

She and David pour their guests fresh waters in silence for a second, and she wonders if he _did_ just genuinely want her help when asks, with a forced casualness that suggests he's thought about how to do it, "Alexis, would you agree that I've been good about not being too...intrusive regarding your relationship with Twyla?"

She nods. "I'd agree. I've appreciated the general lack of interrogation-type questions about us."

He nods back. "Thank you for acknowledging your appreciation. And you should know I'm only asking what I'm asking because I love you. And I've developed a begrudging fondness for Twyla over the years, even if I think she secretly made a pact with the devil in exchange for her unshakeable optimism toward life."

"That's just how she is, but I can get where you're coming from," she agrees, then frowns. "So, um, what's the question? If there is one?"

"I more just want to know—well, _we_ , as in Patrick, Stevie, and myself—what your headspace is like when it comes to Twyla. Because we heard about her one gift to you, the vacation."

"Right...she _did_ mention you guys helped with designing the ticket," Alexis remembers.

"Yep. And that present and the bracelet you got her don't feel like the kinds of gifts you share with someone you've only been dating for about a quarter of a year," David continues.

He must see the hesitation in her face, because he quickly adds, "And that's not meant to be, like, a criticism, or a cause for concern. I—we—our curiosity got piqued, is all. And even before the holidays, we agreed that it feels as if you and Twy have been together longer than you actually have been." He takes a deep breath. "So. I guess…" he shrugs. "If you have anything to say to sort of clarify, or just let me know what you're thinking, I'd appreciate it."

Alexis flicks through her recent memories with Twyla, from the summer before she left, to their goodbye, to making plans for her visit, to that first, flickering recognition of _, Oh, I want Twyla Sands_ to _I have her_ to _I don't want to lose her._

"I'd agree with your observation," she answers. "That it feels like more than four months. I'm...I don't know if it's right to say that I'm crazy for her." She pauses for a second, trying to work out what she means, and she's glad David waits quietly, respecting her boundaries.

"It's more of a sustainable affection," she goes on. "Less of the infatuated, honeymoon stage excitement and more of the on-going warmth that comes from just knowing you're with the right person. But it's still like...like just _seeing_ her sparks that joy, you know?" She barely waits for his nod and says in a bit of a rush, "And I've been thinking a bit more lately about what my future might look long-term with Twy in it and I want that, I want it _bad_ , and—"

_And I love her._

_Oh._

Oh, shit.

She's been on the precipice of thinking those words before, has waltzed near them, around them, but they've never actually formed in her mind before now.

She guesses David can read her thoughts, since she hears herself gasp and feels herself shudder like when she toppled into frigid rapids during that one white-water rafting trip in Brazil.

He just nods a few times, steps forward to hug her, and softly tells her, "Yeah. That's kinda what we thought."

"Thank you," she whispers back, and she's glad he doesn't have to ask what for.

"Kids? Do you need any help with those waters?" Johnny calls.

They laugh at that—their dad is always good for accidentally breaking up sentimental moments—and Alexis responds, once she's found her voice, with a cheery, "Sorry, we'll be right there! We just got to chit-chatting."

"The things that happen when you feel affection for your sibling instead of unvarnished disdain—it's downright _weird_ ," David adds.

**

The remainder of dinner goes fine, aside from Alexis feeling like she's gotten an electric shock when she accidentally brushes hands with Twyla while handing her wine glass back to her.

After finishing dinner and exchanging gifts the Brewers suggested "a nice little game night" to go along with dessert.

 _"Having seen what Patrick was like during the escape room, I think this turn of events calls for breaking open the Christmas wine Stevie brought,"_ Alexis thinks to herself. She's just uncorked it and is about to return to the dining room table—at least Uno can't get too competitive, right?—when she hears her mom's voice in the adjacent den.

"I wanted to discuss this with you alone to avoid any dra-ma-tics. Or...no, that's not the right word," she frets. "I'm sorry, Twyla." Alexis' blood runs cold for a second, and she can picture the concern on her girlfriend's face when Moira notes, "It's not my intention a' _tall_ to worry you. It's more that I'd rather not draw attention. Especially since John's had a bit to drink, and when he's even a _li-ttle_ boozed up, he can latch onto a thread and refuse to surrender it. He's rather like a cat, in that way."

Alexis recognizes the sound of Twyla's nervous laugh, and her voice is about a half-octave higher than usual when she replies, "What is it, Mrs. Rose?"

"I'd like to chat with you about Alexis." She prays her mom isn't about to deliver some strange, tipsy monologue to her girlfriend like she'd done with two of her ex-boyfriends.

"What about her?" Twyla gently prompts.

"Well, as you know, her dating history is fairly littered with red flags, for which John and I undoubtedly bear some responsibility," Moira sighs. "Given her checker-boarded past with men, largely, I must admit we experienced some...relief at how her dating pool shrank when we first arrived in Schitt's Creek."

"I can understand that." Twyla's answer comes out carefully, but also a touch uncertain, and Alexis might just interrupt this awkwardness with an offer to fetch a fresh drink for one or both of them when her mother continues.

"And that relief deepened as she became more sure of herself. As she grew. As we all did, truth be told, despite our best efforts to the contrary." Her mom's always had a humorous self-deprecating streak buried deep beneath her confidence, and Alexis is relieved to hear Twyla let out more of a genuine chuckle at her self-dig.

Moira goes on, "Her relationship with Ted, in particular, helped her greatly, but it ran its course, what with his move to the Galapagos. To be honest, I'm rather glad it did, mean-spirited though that may be. Because you, Twyla, you've…" Alexis silently curses, wondering if her mom's voice has become too quiet for her to catch it, but she hears her release a shaky breath before she says, in a tone bordering on awe, "You've set our Alexis aglow, in a way I've not seen anyone else manage."

Alexis' jaw drops at the fact that her mom knows, that seemingly _everyone_ knows, and she can't even try to pull herself together because her mom's still talking. "And with how separated we are by distance now, it's a…" she hesitates. "I was going to say relief, again, but I think it's a blessing, truly, to know she's in good, kind, competent hands. And well-moisturized ones, to boot."

Twyla's light laugh flutters to her ears. "I—thank you, Mrs. Rose," she manages to stammer.

"Please, call me Moira, dear. I know it's not necessarily the done thing in what may still be considered the halcyon days of your relationship," she concedes, "but I get the sense that you're already tethered quite strongly to one another. Would you agree?"

Alexis nods along with Twyla—she can't actually see her, but she can guess that she's doing it—and Twyla's answer breaks her in the best way.

"Yes. We are. And Alexis…" Twyla sighs softly before confessing, "She means the world to me, Moira. I promise, I'll keep taking care of her the best that I can."

She gives a low-pitched, pleased hum. "We had all figured as much, Twy-la, but I appreciate the confirmation."

Their footsteps suggest they're coming back to the kitchen. Alexis hurriedly pours her glass of wine, at long last, and silently thanks the Brewers for filling the post-dessert, pre-Uno-playing time gap with amicable chatter, because David would've undoubtedly shouted for her by now otherwise and given her away. She doesn't dare glance at Twyla or her mom when they come back, instead focusing—or, more accurately, making a great show of focusing—on her cards once Patrick deals out their hands.

Alexis isn't a huge believer in Fate, but Twyla reversing the order of play to her twice in four turns feels like a nudge from the universe. A wink. And even though the cards are all numbered, they seem to be saying, _"Tell her."_

**

She's on the verge of sharing her thoughts when they get home, but Twyla goes first while they're changing into their pajamas.

"Hey, Lex?"

"Yeah, Twy?" she calls back from the bathroom.

"I was just thinking about something you said earlier. About your work friend's wedding, and going to it?"

"Mmhmm," Alexis nods as she finishes her nightly moisturizing routine and settles on the bed next to Twyla. "What is it?"

"Well, it's basically a year away," she remarks thoughtfully. "I'm not saying that's a super long time from now, but it's a decent sized jump in the future."

"Sure," Alexis agrees, though she's not sure exactly where Twyla's going with this conversation.

"And you mentioning that I'd be going with you...it sort of made me consider our future from more of a long-term view. Not that I hadn't thought about it before," she hastens to note, "but the unexpectedness of it made me freeze up a bit at dinner. When you asked me if I wanted a refill on my water?"

Her vacant stare and slightly spaced-out answer return to the forefront of Alexis' mind before they overtake her own features. "Oh," she answers dumbly.

"And I guess I'm wondering," Twyla goes on, her voice quavering a bit, "how far down the road you want this to go, or see us going."

"Pretty damn far," Alexis whispers back. "Like, we should probably start considering the logistics of closing the distance far. Does that...does that match up with what you're thinking and feeling?"

She blocks out the insidious part of her mind that says she should prep for the worst case scenario.

"Yes. It definitely matches up. It's just…I don't know if I could do NYC all the time. Like, really long term. But I know you're building your business there and you're thriving and I'm sorry if I'm thinking about all this way too early and scaring the fuck out of you," Twyla babbles, and Alexis holds her close as she keeps pouring her heart out. "It's just, this feels good and right and I've been getting all these like, confirming signs within the past few weeks, and especially over the last few days, even. And being with you, being _happy_ with you, Lex…" she sighs. "It's fucking effortless, but we're also still working at being together. It's like this light bulb's gone on for me, about how a relationship should function. And, once more, I'm sorry for kinda word vomiting all this out. It's not exactly a normal ending to Christmas," she half-laughs, half-sobs.

"Twyla, baby, it's fine," Alexis murmurs, stroking her hair softly. She remembers how she'd comforted her when she was steeped with anxiety about meeting her family, so she presses gentle kisses to the back of her neck and loops her arms around her.

Alexis considers the best way to go about this, takes a deep breath, and starts with a question of her own. "Is it okay if I, like, address all of what you just told me in a few different parts?"

"Mmhmm," Twyla nods as she leans back into her for a second before sitting up and shifting around so they're facing each other.

"Alright, great. So, first...you're not gonna scare me off. I've had kind of a similar experience, as far as considering our future with more purpose lately. And especially since I've been in town, too, between talking to your mom and David and hearing you and my mom chatting earlier…"

She winces as Twyla's eyes pop wide at that little revelation. "You heard that?"

"I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, babe, I swear. I was just in the kitchen getting some wine and I heard her starting in on a monologue or soliloquy, whichever it is, and by the time I realized she was talking to you…"

"You'd been rooted to the spot," Twyla summarizes. "To be honest, the same thing probably would've happened to me if we'd flipped positions. So...did you hear all of it?"

"Most of it, I think," she answers. "And my mom's right. I _am_ in good hands with you, Twy. And, again, I'm definitely not scared about picturing our future together."

Twyla smiles softly at her. "Alright, then. So we're one for…" she tilts her head curiously. "How many points are you thinking you'll make, exactly?"

"Three. Or two more now, I guess."

Twyla scooches forward, presses a kiss to her forehead, and murmurs, "Keep talking."

"Second, the New York City thing. I definitely want to stay there for at least a few more years to really stabilize Alexis Rose Communications." She pauses, wondering if it's the right time to do this, then decides, _"If Twyla can be brave enough to plunge into the messy truth, face her fright, and share what she's feeling without blinking, then I can, too."_

So she picks up her sentence and says, "We don't have to decide anything right now, and please, _please_ don't feel like you have to say yes to this if you have reservations about it. We can always come up with another plan that works for both of us. But I'd love for you to live with me in New York, if you'd be up for that."

"I...I would," Twyla breathes. "Not immediately, and I'd want to plan out and start executing what I'd do there, whether that'd be opening up another cafe or developing a more professional foundation and expanding its scope, but...yeah. I could take on New York with you for a few years."

Alexis' laugh rings in her own ears as she kisses Twyla. She's definitely giddy. She might be delirious. If she is, it's not much of a bother, all things considered, not when she's heard this whispered promise of a future she'd barely started dreaming about until four months ago. And now it feels bound to their beating hearts.

It's that feeling that drives her forward, plus seeing how Twyla's anxiety has faded from her features to be replaced by a mix of hope and contentment.

"Third part, then," Alexis continues. She's pretty sure she knows what her conclusion will be. She's just not sure about the path to arrive there. "You said you don't know if you could do NYC super long term?" she asks, just to double-check, and Twyla nods in response.

"Honestly, after living there for two and a half years, I'm not sure I can, either," Alexis admits. "It's just so _alive_ , all the time. Which can be exhilarating, but also exhausting."

"I got that sense during my vacation," Twyla agrees, "and I was only there for, what, three days?"

"It's great for now, but I think I wanna settle down somewhere where it's easier to recharge. Even a big city on a smaller scale would be doable," she explains.

"Sure. Makes sense to me." She exhales and relaxes deeply, nearly slumping into Alexis. _"_ Thank you so much for listening to me, and for addressing everything so neatly and helping me feel better. I couldn't ask for a better partner than you."

Twyla's words sound like a conclusion, but Alexis has one more point to make. "Same goes for you, hon. But. Um. I'm realizing I misspoke earlier when I said there were three items on my agenda, as it were. There's actually a fourth one, as it turns out."

"Okay. Hit me." Her shoulders pop as she stretches her arms out and lays on the bed.

Alexis nudges her onto her side with a bit of a prodding poke and mirrors her pose before almost involuntarily whispering, "God, you're beautiful."

Twyla grins into their kiss. "Never gonna get tired of hearing you say that."

Alexis lets out a faux indignant gasp and a scandalized, "I'd sure hope not!"

Twyla's laughter crinkles the edges of her eyes, and the sound settles in Alexis' chest. It's been something akin to a song for her trip so far, and it quells the bit of nervous fear still thrumming in her veins.

 _"You've gone skydiving on four hours of sleep and gambled for your freedom from the French police in a game of pool,"_ she reminds herself. _"You can do this."_

She's done stalling. "So, my fourth point—or call it 4B, if 4A is me admiring your beauty, that's fine, too—is that I don't know where exactly I'll settle down yet, or when that will be. But I'm damn sure I'll want you there by my side."

Twyla's smile is serene. Content. "You sound really certain of that."

"Of course I am," Alexis replies, willing her voice not to crack.

She takes one more breath to work up her courage, and she doesn't have to think about saying the words anymore. "I love you, Twy."

Twyla's hands fly up to her mouth, and her gaze holds the tiniest bit of disbelief.

But then her hands are fluttering, moving toward her face, and she's winding her fingers into her hair, and Alexis watches her mouth open and close once. Twice.

It's ten seconds, tops.

It's an interminable wait.

She can't say for sure if she's leaning in or if Twyla's guiding her close, but she's sure their slightly stunned smiles are mirror images on each other's faces.

She's sure she hears Twyla whisper, "I love you too, Alexis," in a breathless rush before she's getting and giving the best goddamn Christmas kiss of her life.

They sample the phrase like it's fudge, highlighting different points of emphasis, learning the subtle yet stark differences between " _I_ love you" and "I _love_ you" and "I love _you."_

They're all mutual favorites.

Same goes for the endless iterations of how and where they can release that affirmation: in shaky breaths, on the shared exhale after kisses, burning red-hot against Twyla's neck, whispered into Alexis' ear.

"Hey, Lex," Twyla murmurs softly during one of their little breaks from their newfound discovery.

"Yeah, Twy?"

"I'd kinda given up on the idea that Christmas could really be magical by the time I was fifteen or so. Thanks for proving me wrong."

"Thanks for the same." She smiles and leans close to her girlfriend again. And it's crazy, Alexis thinks, how kissing Twyla has become such an automatic, refined process, yet the action still threatens to fry her brain. "It's been a hell of a first Christmas with you, love."

Even in the dark, she can see Twyla blush a little at that new term of endearment. "Think we can top it next year?"

Alexis offers a completely untroubled shrug. "Even if we can't, spending it with you is more than good enough for me."

Twyla sleepily nods in response, rolls over, and spoons against Alexis.

And as she reflects on her past Christmases, she nearly laughs at her old self.

Because when it comes down to it, all the gifts she'd _thought_ she'd needed in her past life—the jet-skis, the yachts, the Gucci bags, the Prada coats—were things she'd only wanted.

But with Twyla in her arms, and the promise of more days like today to come, Alexis realizes, _"This is all I really need."_


End file.
